


The Old Familiar Places

by artificialmac



Series: Brooke Lynn Hytes and Other Residential Neighborhoods in New York [24]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Feelings, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Brock doesn’t like Los Angeles because it makes him remember.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Series: Brooke Lynn Hytes and Other Residential Neighborhoods in New York [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1382581
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	The Old Familiar Places

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fic I thought I posted a while ago, but idk what happened and it didn't actually post lol. So here it is now. Hope you enjoy the sadness. 
> 
> I'm assuming Meggie betaed this because it sounds coherent.

Brock didn't like being in Los Angeles.

He didn't like the traffic or the noise or the people.

He didn't like that no matter how big the city was, he could never find a place that didn't remind him of Jose. 

Every bakery he passed reminded him of their unofficial first date.

* * *

They had finally gotten released from the filming studio. They took a moment to enjoy the fresh air and the breeze. Where the Werq Room had been hot and stuffy, now it was just hot.

Brock looked over to Jose, who was trying to avoid eye contact. 

Now that they were out in the open air, they didn't know where they stood. There were no cameras anymore. No impending sense of dread. 

It was just them and the night air. Or early morning air, depending on how you wanted to look at it.

When Jose finally looked up to meet his eyes, he smiled. And at that moment, Brock knew everything was going to be alright. 

The older man moved to wrap his arms around Jose’s hips slowly, purposefully; they had all the time in the world now. Brock leaned down to press their foreheads together. 

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hey."

There was a beat of comfortable silence before Brock spoke again. "So… You come here often?"

Jose threw his head back with a laugh, and suddenly all the room in Brock’s chest was gone. As if his heart had made and filled space just for this man's laughter. 

Maybe it had.

"Where do you wanna go? What do you wanna do? We've got time."

"We've got time," Jose repeated. 

The younger man thought for a moment before grabbing Brock with one hand and calling an Uber with the other.

"I got an idea," he whispered.

The car ride was short, not even ten minutes later, they arrived outside a sketchy looking building. 

Brock could barely make out the sign if he squinted.

"Twenty-four-hour cookies? Really?"

"Best spot in town."

Brock looked at him suspiciously as they approached the establishment.

"Just trust me," Jose spoke.

Brock did.

Implicitly.

It was almost concerning how he realized he would go to the ends of the earth for this man after only knowing each other for a few weeks.

Almost.

* * *

Brock hated passing by the Walk of Fame. The stars always mocked him from below his feet.

_You'll never be here._

_You'll always be there._

_Watching._

_So close, but never close enough._

They reminded him of his flaws. His shortcomings. His failures.

They also reminded him of that time he and Jose had walked up and down these very streets for hours.

* * *

"You can't have memorized all of them! That's literally not possible."

"Is too!" 

"Prove it."

Jose smiled triumphantly. "Watch and learn!" Jose called. "Okay, Imma walk backward, make sure I don't fall and bust my ass on nothin'."

Jose closed his eyes and let Brock lead him by the hand to the start of the stars. He then started walking backwards with his eyes closed, listing off celebrities. "Okay, so we between Whitley and Palmas, so the first one is Jasmine Lee Curtis.”

“ _Jamie_ Lee Curtis, but close enough,” Brock corrected.

Jose ignored him and plowed ahead. “Then Margie O'Brien and Stevie Nicks.

"Actually-"

Jose's eyes stayed shut, but the sass in his voice and the added hand on his hip got the point across. "I know it's Fleetwood Mac, but that bitch made them, so I don't give a shit what the actual star says."

Brock just shook his head and laughed.

"Next, we got Capra and Keaton..."

This went on for several blocks with no mistakes from Jose, besides the made up nicknames he decided to give the celebrities.

Brock couldn't hide his awe and didn't try to. "How the hell did you do that?"

Jose's smile dimmed a bit. "I used ta walk up and down these streets like ten times a day lookin' for jobs. No one wanted to hire me though. But I kept goin' kept tryin' an’ all that. I looked at these stars every day for nearly four years." Jose paused to take a deep breath in. "I know it sounds stupid, but they gave me hope. They made me think I could be somebody someday."

"You already are somebody."

"Not the way I wanna be."

"You've got time." Brock tried to reassure him.

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

Brock didn't like Los Angeles.

Because while he passed by bakeries and stars that all looked the same, nothing looked like him.

And at the same time, nothing didn't remind him of Jose in some way. 

Stupid silly things like streetlights or cigarettes or joy. 

Things he used to love were tinged with a sadness. A sadness that wasn't altogether painful. It was the kind of sadness that ached and burned just below the surface.

If Brock thought too much about it, he would find tears in his eyes or his heartbeat accelerating.

So, of course, he thought about it all the time.

And so he hated Los Angeles.

For the sleepless nights, he spent memorizing the curve of Jose’s lips as he slept.  
For the early mornings, he woke up to the feeling of Jose beside him.

For the endless afternoons and evenings and dusks and dawns that they spent together.   
Just existing in the same space.

In the same city.


End file.
